A Favor Asked
by azarathangel
Summary: It was a small favor to ask, but it would take a little convincing. [BB] K for implications, fluffy humor oneshot ficlet!


**Story: A Favor Asked  
**

**Disclaimer: I happen to own… NOTHING! Everyone belongs to FOX…. Damn. No claim to anything but—hopefully—this plot.**

**Spoilers: None!**

**Pairing: BoothxBrennan**

**Chapters: One-shot ficlet that's hopefully humorous**

**Summary: He'll always bug her about it, even if it WAS his fault…**

**Chapter 1: Your Fault**

**Note: Thought of this while reading some other story so here goes! Hope you find it humorous and a bit fluffy!!**

**Yet another note: If you are a reader of my fics, then I'll have you know that I recently completed the long-awaited 'Cage.' If you haven't read it, go on over and review after reviewing this ficlet!! Gratsi, gracias, sheshe, etc…**

**Rating: K+ for implications**

**------------------------ --------------------------- ------------------------------------**

"Honestly, Bones, you really should—"

"Should _what_? And if you're still mad about that, you need to get over it because I am not helping you! And don't you dare tell me I'm better equipped for the job than you." Brennan said hotly, turning her back on the agent and walking out of the room to leave him scowling after her, object of argument in hand.

"C'mon! You have more experience with this sort of thing." When she kept walking down the hallway, Booth stopped and put his hands on his hips. "Now you come back here!" She kept walking and Booth charged after her.

"Or what?" Brennan shot back at him, unfazed by his tone or aggressive walk. Booth opened his mouth before closing it again, thoughts he'd rather not have at that moment fluttering through his head.

Brennan smiled triumphantly as he stood there glaring at her without an answer.

"That's what I thought," she said with a smug smile, turning around and leaving him in the hallway of the apartment while she stepped into her bedroom. She heard him step into the room behind her and she turned around, arms crossed over her chest as she gave him an annoyed look. He was so persistent…

"You're being mean, you know that, Bones?" he accused her, a pout hovering about his lips. Her annoyance melted as she laughed. Booth's scowl only deepened.

"See what I mean? I'm sitting here asking you to do a favor for me—very nicely I might add—and you just sit and laugh at me." Brennan shook her head, smile still in place as she listened to the disgruntled agent.

"Booth, I'm not laughing at you…" Booth waved the object in his hands in her face and the unbridled giggles surfaced. "Okay so maybe I am, but I'm not being mean. You can do it yourself; you really don't need me to help."

"Bones, do you really think I could make something of this?" He took a step towards her and she raised her eyebrows.

"Well," she said, moving to him, "I have come to discover that you are quite the domestic man…" She smiled, her body now almost touching his, her finger lightly touching his chest. Booth put his arm around her waist and pulled her closer. She still had that slow smile dancing about her lips as she leaned back a bit, keeping their heads apart while her blue eyes twinkled in amusement.

"Is that a bad thing?" Booth questioned, moving so that their foreheads were now touching.

"Not at all…" Brennan replied. Booth placed a chaste kiss on her lips; she laughed under her breath before returning the favor.

"So," Booth murmured, their foreheads still touching, "are you going to do it or not?"

Brennan pulled back suddenly and took the object from his hands. Booth smiled for a second before his face was obscured as Brennan threw the shirt at him.

"Go sew your own damn buttons on, Booth. It's not my fault you can't get them undone fast enough…" She continued her trek to the bathroom, and seconds later, a tiny sewing kit landed at Booth's feet and he groaned.

"Bones…"

------------------------------------- ------------------------------ -----------------------

Just for fun!!! Leave a review please!!

-Ash


End file.
